


Trope Mash-Up Prompts: Glannithro

by OtterlyDeerlightful



Category: LazyTown
Genre: M/M, Poorly Timed Confession, War AU, Writing Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:02:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25945537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtterlyDeerlightful/pseuds/OtterlyDeerlightful
Summary: Glannithro one-shot for a tumblr "Fanfiction Trope Mash-Up" ask!
Relationships: Glanni Glæpur/Íþróttaálfurinn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Trope Mash-Up Prompts: Glannithro

Glanni had been taken prisoner. The usually slippery eel had made the smallest mistake, and now he was in chains. It made Ithro’s stomach twist to see the fae in such a state, but there was nothing he could do to change it. What was worse, he was one of the two soldiers assigned to _escort_ their captured enemy to their waiting captain. He did his best not to look at the captured fae beside him, though he could _feel_ Glanni’s eyes on him. It just made his chest tighten even more. The elf did his best to keep his expression neutral.

Ithro hadn’t seen Glanni in a long time, not since the stupid war had been little more than an ongoing squabble between their people. Despite their differences, they had become close. _Very_ close, though Ithro had never dared to reveal his true feelings to his friend. It seemed that opposite did, indeed, attract. The elf had worried about Glanni since their involuntary separation and, despite the nature of the stories he heard about his fae, Ithro was always glad to hear some word of him. It meant that Glanni was still alive. Now, though, the soldier worried about the crafty conman more than ever before…and he was the one delivering Glanni to his doom.

He didn’t have a choice, he told himself, though even his inner voice was weak with remorse as he did. What other choice did he have? Glanni had been brought to their camp after his latest scheme against the elven army had gone sideways and it was only pure luck that it happened to be the same unit to which Ithro had been assigned. He had hoped his reunion with Glanni would be under more joyous circumstances. He had been wrong.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” the fae remarked as he glanced around their surroundings. “Nice location…atmosphere’s a bit shit, though. I hope there’s a continental breakfast, at least.”

Ithro wanted him to shut up. He knew Glanni well enough to know that the cheeky bravado was a cover for his fear, but he worried his smirks and snark might make the captured man’s situation even worse. Unable to properly communicate this, Ithro shot the fae a sideways warning glare. The corner of Glanni’s mouth raised for the barest moment in response, but that only made his anxiety worse.

“Ah, Glaepur,” the elven captain sneered as his men approached with their captive. “And what trouble were you trying to cause for my troops _this_ time? Was it worth the price?”

Ithro tightened his jaw when Glanni dared to respond.

“Trouble? I don’t cause _trouble_ , per say. I just know a good opportunity when I see one. And who’s to say that being strung between two handsome muscled hunks wasn’t my plan in the first place?” the fae asked, winking in Ithro’s direction.

He did his best to remain unresponsive, though he was sure a frown was at least threatening to pull at his lips.

Their captain was unamused. He nodded toward the tent behind him. “Tie him to the post inside. I’ll be with him in a moment.”

“Bring me some onion rings and a martini when you come back! The service here is awful!”

Ithro subtly jabbed at the fae’s side as he and his partner escorted their prisoner inside. Glanni pouted at him silently and allowed the two elves to lead and sit him down before a thick wooden pole in the center of the tent. Ithro and Glanni met eyes, both men offering sympathy to their counterpart and his situation. The presence of others prevented them from speaking, but Ithro understood Glanni’s silent words well enough. He and his partner stood, their prisoner secured, and left the tent.

“Thank you,” the captain said with a dark smile. “Stay here. This shouldn’t take long.”

Their superior disappeared into the tent now behind them. Ithro bit the inside of his cheek as the soft sounds and muffled voices drifted outside. He remained quiet, as did his partner. The elf stared into the trees and watched the other soldiers mill out or attend to their duties. Some occasionally glanced his way, no doubt curious about the rumors that the infamous Glanni Glaepur had been captured.

Ithro had known things wouldn’t end well, but that didn’t keep his throat from tightening at hearing muffled cries of pain escaping the tent. He clenched his fists at his sides while his molars ground together at the sounds of the fae he so deeply cared for being…hurt. Blatantly hurt. He refused to think of it as torture…he _couldn’t_. Ithro shut his eyes, but that only helped his ears focus all the more on the slaps and soft cries coming from inside the captain’s tent. Glanni was the enemy. Fae were the enemy. Neither of them could help their positions in this stupid war. They each had obligations. They both…they both…

He was shaking now. Ithro opened his eyes. No, he…he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t stand by and allow Glanni to be hurt no matter who was in that tent. Ithro may as well be the one landing each blow on the fae’s beautifully pale skin; after all, _he_ was the one who had delivered Glanni to the slaughter. Ithro took a deep breath and turned just in time to see their captain emerge.

“I didn’t expect him to talk,” the elf sighed, as if bored by the entire situation. “Watch him. I’ll be back in a moment. I just need to…get some of my _toys_.”

The captain offered a sickening smile before walking off. Ithro choked down the pain in his stomach and nodded. He quickly turned to his partner, muttering a brief “I’ll guard him, you watch the entrance,” and hurrying inside.

Glanni was just where Ithro had left him, head now hung and hair mussed. He grit his teeth in guilt seeing the few shallow lacerations and already-forming bruises scattered about the fae’s skin. Hearing his choking gulp of shock, Glanni raised his head. In spite of the man’s bleeding lip, he smiled at seeing Ithro standing there.

“Hey.”

Ithro trembled, trying to smile for his old friend in spite of their terrible situation. “H-hey.”

“You come here often?” Glanni croaked, his voice sounding far scratchier than it had earlier. Ithro didn’t want to know why that was. “’Cause…I gotta say, you gotta raise your standards. I know you like your trees and shit, but this place is the pits.”

In spite of everything, in spite of his current situation and bleak future…Glanni was still Glanni. Rarely had the fae ever needed his protection, but that did not stop Ithro’s instinct to do so…and he had betrayed them both by leading his dearest friend here. He didn’t know what to say. What _could_ he say? Ithro swallowed, his heart twisting tightly in his chest.

“I’ve missed you,” the elf said quietly.

He wasn’t sure when he had approached, but Ithro found himself kneeling before his prisoner and carefully wiping away the blood congealing on Glanni’s chin.

“I’m sorry,” Ithro whispered quietly.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Always the liar,” he chuckled lightly. He had to laugh to keep from crumbling. “Haven’t lost your touch.”

“Oh, shut up, Chisel Chest.”

Ithro was still talking. “I should have done something…I could have…fought them off when they brought you in. I…”

“Would have had that shiny blade of yours sticking in your gut right now if you had,” Glanni pointed out calmly. “We al have things to do that…we’d rather not.” The fae smiled, the motion causing his cracked lip to bleed anew. “I’m just glad you’re alive, you hero-complexed dumbass.”

Ithro swallowed. The pair sat quietly together for a few moments. Not knowing what to do with his hands, the elf continued to try and clean Glanni’s wounds the best he could. He had moved on to combing back the fae’s wild hair when his old friend spoke again.

“Ithro…you need to stop,” Glanni sighed, eyes not quite meeting his gaze. “Your spangled shithead will be back any second and you don’t want him finding you fondling the enemy.”

“I…I can’t…” He took in a quivering breath. “I can’t leave you like this, Glanni.”

“You can and you will, you dumb shit.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, Glanni.”

“Look, I got myself into the mess. I _always_ get myself into this kind of shit. Don’t jump in after me. You still have a chance, okay? Just because I fucked up doesn’t mean one of us can’t still go home. You’ve stuck your neck out for my stupid ass more than you ever should’ve. Let me…handle this one myself.”

“But they’ll—”

“Everyone takes a dirt nap at some point, Ithro. Who cares if I take mine sooner rather than later?”

How could he say that? Did Glanni not realize how much Ithro cared about him? No, he realized, Glanni wouldn’t. They had stolen glances, shared so much, but neither of them had ever _said_ anything. The fae was willingly staring down death and telling Ithro to leave him. There was nothing he could do to save the man he cared for so deeply, and Glanni had made it clear that he wouldn’t accept any offered help anyway. …But, Ithro decided, he could at least let the fae know he would be missed, that his existence was worth something to someone. He would never have another chance to do so.

“..I..” The elf swallowed. “ _I_ do, Glanni. I care.” Ithro hated the way his fae’s brow knit together in, albeit mild, disbelief. “I have always cared…I…I love you.”

The silence in the tent was deafening as the two men stared at each other. Ithro sighed and let his eyes drift down to the dirt floor below.

“Well shit,” Glanni mumbled, his voice uncharacteristically somber. “It’s…too bad you didn’t say that earlier…”

“Indeed.”

Ithro spun around to face the captain watching them from the entrance of the tent. The man wore a dark scowl as he took in the sight of his soldier kneeling so closely to his prisoner. Ithro went rigid and his mind halted with the realization of the predicament they were suddenly in. He heard Glanni emit a low growl beside him. The elven captain drew the sword from his belt, shaking his head. Behind him, Ithro could see the shocked faces of a pair of his comrades.

“I had heard rumor of lesser soldiers _fraternizing_ with the enemy,” his commanding officer snarled, “But I _never_ thought someone like you would fall so low, Ithrotta. And for someone like _Glaepur_ …does you disgrace know no bounds?”

Eyes trained on the captain’s drawn blade, Ithro soon found himself firmly placed between the man and the prisoner. This was not good. They were discovered, cornered, and both of them facing severe punishment and, undoubtedly, an eventual death. Ithro had wanted to somehow protect Glanni, and had instead made things so much worse. He carefully drew his own weapon and focused as much of his will as he dared on steadying his breathing. There was only one way out now and, though all odds were against the possibility for victory, he needed to at _try_ to get them out of it.

Ithro never got the chance. Much to his surprise, a cool hand’s long fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist. He looked at the fae, dumbfounded to see him untied.

“Come on, you idiot!”

Glanni yanked on his wrist, pulling Ithro back as the captain charged. The small tent opening at least acted as a bottleneck for the soldiers behind him, but it wouldn’t save them for long. The fae snatched Ithro’s spare dagger from his boot and, after an understanding glance and a nod to one another, the pair surged forward. Rather than aiming to kill, both men had clearly decided to instead focus on creating a hole through which to escape.

When the captain was distracted with Ithro, their blades locked together, Glanni delivered a nice kick to the elf’s chest to catch him off-guard. With Ithro’s now former superior distracted on his knees, the pair were easily able to slip through the few confused soldiers still outside the tent. Ithro followed the fae’s lead and the pair made their retreat.

They didn’t speak a word as they raced to the nearest horses and took off from the camp. It seemed they didn’t need to. After some time, the echoes of their pursuers barely reaching their ears, Ithro turned to Glanni and gestured for the fae to move up. He did so and, a moment later, the elf had stood and leapt to the second steed. The horses parted and some time later, they dismounted and sent their remaining horse on its way before taking off toward a rocky outcrop to cover any potential tracks as they went. Any sounds from the elven soldiers had long since faded, but neither dared stop until they had put more distance between them and the encampment.

It felt like ages until they spoke. Ithro’s head was swimming, replaying the events of the past hours again and again as they made their way through the forest. He had deserted the army. He was a fugitive…worse, he was an outright traitor to his entire race. And yet… He looked up at the back of Glanni’s head. The fae seemed at home as they climbed, his long spidery legs easily finding the safest footholds along their path. Ithro smiled. Glanni was safe. That’s what mattered.

“You know you think really loudly, right?” Glanni asked over his shoulder.

Ithro blinked. “Huh?”

“I can feel your stupid eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. I can practically _hear_ those gears in your head turning.”

Ithro couldn’t help but roll his eyes. At least the silence was broken now.

“Do you know where we’re going?” the elf asked.

“Yeah. _Away_.”

“N-no, I mean—”

“I _know_ what you meant, Ithro.” The fae finally stopped and turned to look at him. “What the _hell_ were you thinking? Your stupid mug is going to be on wanted posters all over the damn continent! I hope it was fucking worth it, because you just lost _everything_ for nothing, you dumbass!”

Ithro blinked. It took him a second to register the other’s words and formulate a response. “You are _not_ nothing!”

“I _am_!”

“You are _not_!”

Glanni glared at him angrily. Ithro didn’t like the look of the swelling around the fae’s right eye.

“Glanni…I meant what I said. I _do_ love you. I don’t regret what I said, and I don’t regret what I did. Y-you mean…everything to me.”

The two men stood there for a minute. A magpie called loudly from somewhere nearby. Glanni sighed and looked off into the trees.

“Are you okay?” Ithro asked. “From what…the captain did? Your eye looks—”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” the fae mumbled. Glanni sighed. “You weren’t supposed to like me, you know. But hell, since when do we ever listen to each other, right?”

Ithro dared to smile.

“Come on…we should be able to reach the group by late tomorrow. We can get you set up somewhere.”

Ithro frowned. “But…I’m an elf.”

“Oh? I hadn’t noticed.” Glanni gave an exacerbated sigh and grabbed Ithro’s hand. “Don’t worry, Ithro,” he said in a softer tone. “You’ll be safe.”

He smiled, trusting his old friend. Ithro and Glanni started toward the mountains, hands still tightly clasped.


End file.
